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Any time any of us reaches out, any time we pour even a drop of love, compassion, simple human decency (no matter how small; how seemingly insignificant) into the sea of earthly existence — we are, each and every one of us — the being called Mercy.

I understand the most profound and simplest Truth of all: Any time any of us reaches out, any time we pour even a drop of love, compassion, simple human decency (no matter how small; how seemingly insignificant) into the sea of earthly existence — we are, each and every one of us — the being called Mercy.

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’m a Total Disnoid. Walt Disney is one of my heroes: it’s extraordinary what one man, armed only with will and imagination, accomplished. To be a part of that history, that legacy — in any small way — is really an honor.

I love kids’ fantasy...everything from L. Frank Baum to A. A. Milne … Narnia to Wonderland to Neverland. These are magicalstories that nurtured me as a child and then nurtured my own children, as well. What better legacy could a writer have than to continue that wonderful tradition of imagination and insight and adventure? Comics, of course, pretty much ignore the children’s market. I’ve been obsessed, for years now, with doing some projects that could bring that level of imagination and literary and artistic quality to the comic book form.

I’ve realized over the years that, with rare exceptions, most writer’s block isn’t writer’s block at all: It’s necessary time that allows the unconscious mind to do its deep work. The great “Ah-Ha!” moments don’t usually come at the keyboard. They come when I’m lying on the floor, staring into space (or banging my head against the wall in frustration). All of a sudden the Unconscious Camera turns on, a movie starts playing in my head-and there it is: The Big Moment. Or the Whole Damn Story. And, in many ways, I had nothing whatsoever to do with it.

Follow your heart, follow your dreams. If writing is your passion, put everything you have into it. Let that passion, that joy, lead you. In the end it might not lead you to exactly the place you thought you were heading...but it will absolutely lead you someplace wonderful. And don’t let the Nay-Sayers, the Practical People, stop you or wear you down. Follow your dreams...and you can’t go wrong.

I've been blogging — however irregularly — over at Amazon.com for a few years now, but I've always felt that arena was for the "official" JMD. It was as if I was standing in the aisle of a book store, greeting potential readers: sharing my thoughts, certainly — but also trying to get them interested in my wares. I'm hoping that this blog will be more like a living room: a little more casual and personal. A place where I can talk about, well, anything that comes to mind, from the trivial to the profound. And I hope to do it at least once a week. (I'll wait a moment for the laughter to die down.)

We’re not really the authors of our work: we’re channels, tuning into another frequency, another dimension, and bringing that information down into the physical world, where — using the tools, the talents and perspectives that are uniquely ours — we transcribe and embellish that information, transforming it into that wonderful creature called a Story.In the end, it doesn’t matter whether the transmission is instant or unfolds slowly, it’s the opening up that’s so magical. That moment of realizing that you’re connected to something so much bigger than yourself. I remember, years ago, when I was just beginning work on Moonshadow, standing in the shower — mouth open, eyes glazed, still as a statue — watching the ending of the series play out on the movie screen of my psyche. Make no mistake: I didn’t create the scene, I just witnessed and transcribed it.

I seriously considered putting Nine Lives aside (I no longer feel compelled, as I did when I was younger, to finish every book I start). I’m happy I stuck with it: as I continued reading, the lives chronicled — in clear, compassionate prose — became more and more fascinating, and, on occasion, heartbreaking: The collision between ancient and modern culture in India threatens to wipe away traditions that have gone on, uninterrupted, for thousands of years and most of Dalrymple’s seekers struggle with that knowledge in some way. There’s a lovely chapter about a Sufi devotee in southern Pakistan — she’s known as the Red Fairy — that illuminates the lyrical, mystical side of Islam. Considering the current mood in the United States, it should be compulsory reading for every American who thinks the Taliban and Al-Qaeda represent the totality of Muslim life.